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Monthly Archives: April 2017

The question of Quality Education

It’s not just the number of out-of-school children that is worrisome, but also the quality of education they are provided

The question of quality

One day, when in a meeting he was required to answer some questions put by the district officer, his vocal chords gave up. “I couldn’t produce a single sound from my throat. Teaching from 6am to 6pm, all alone, was not easy.”

Decades later, nothing much has changed. Today, there are 55 children studying in his school in Charnor, with only one teacher, his son who took over his father’s job after he retired. “My son is not paid; he is a volunteer. We hope that the Sindh government will actually hire more teachers as is being promised,” says Mal.

A government school officially, it’s made up of three small huts, with neither toilets nor electricity. Foreign philanthropists helped fund a solar water pump, so the school has water, a luxury in Tharparkar. The curriculum is provided by the government. Grades 1, 2 and 3 are taught on one day, and grades 4 and 5 are taught the next, all clumped together in small rooms in the unrelenting Thar Desert heat. With one teacher teaching 55 students of five grades all subjects, and a lack of resources, the quality of education is low down on the list of priorities.

Read also: When the going gets tough

While the Pakistan Education Statistics Report 2015-16 proudly states that the number of out-of-school children (OOSC) in grades 1-12 has reduced by 3 per cent a year from 25.96 million in 2012-13 to 22.64 million in 2015-16, 22 million plus are still OOSC in Pakistan.

What’s worrisome is not just the numbers, but also the quality of education the children going to schools are provided.

“Teachers are not motivated enough to excel in such an environment and perform their duties in a perfunctory manner which is a setback to the learning process of the children,” says Varisha Khalid Nabi, Member, Board of trustees, The Justuju School, Karachi. Schools like Justuju are numbered, but are rays of hope, fighting against the odds.

Pakistan’s educational crisis, in the opinion of Abbas Husain, Director, Teachers’ Development Centre (TDC), is multi-layered. “Our crisis is not just of resources but also of attitude,” he says.

The Justuju School started five years ago in the underprivileged Azam Basti in an attempt to bridge the gap between government and private school education. It began with 30 students; today it is 270 students-strong. The school runs on donations, yet is known for the standard of education and teaching, and the drop-out rate is close to zero. The parents of these children might be poor and uneducated, but have recognised the importance of quality education, which is why they vie for admission here. The key is the emphasis on the teachers’ training. Their academic department is pro-active in equipping teachers with the required skills sets, and has formed alliances with organisations that facilitate trainings and evaluations.

“We started the school to provide education parallel to any good private school. Quality education shouldn’t just be the privilege of the rich but a right of every citizen,” says Varisha.

Pakistan’s educational crisis, in the opinion of Abbas Husain, Director, Teachers’ Development Centre (TDC), is multi-layered. “Our crisis is not just of resources but also of attitude,” he says, adding that the infrastructure is just one of the factors to quality education. In his view, Pakistan’s dilemma is that “the smart child is being taught by the inept teacher. The teacher is no longer the fount of knowledge. The student has access to sources of knowledge that the teacher doesn’t,” he says, and continues that it is unfortunate that many senior teachers refuse to keep up with the times, ignoring the use of tools like the internet.

At senior levels, if schools don’t provide education that keeps up with the times, students may drop-out, and join specialised institutes instead.

Teaching methodologies are important if the bar of the quality of education is to be raised in Pakistan. “A student-oriented approach is used in privileged schools which is non-existent in public schools,” says Asma Munir Salman, teacher and founder of APNA Shelter Home and Learning Centre in Islamabad.

Her experience has been both as a teacher in upper tier schools and also as the person behind APNA, a school providing quality education to underprivileged children. She cites teaching techniques like collaborative learning, group discussions, and use of analytical and reflective approaches. “But in public schools, they’re still using the ‘chalk and talk’ method even in this technological world,” she says. “They feel intimidated by their students if asked questions. They make them cram information without making them understand. I have come across teachers who solve math problems on the board themselves and make their students copy them down and learn them.”

Husain feels that upper tier schools don’t even have the alibi of a lack of resources. They charge exorbitant amounts as fee, yet still lag behind technologically. He says that teachers today are focusing on “professionalism, which is the status of the profession in society, but not on professionality, which is having the required knowledge and skill sets.”

When asked about the makings of a good classroom, he says that the answer lies in three things: “respecting the child’s individual voice, providing a safe space for the child to grow, and accepting all kinds of diversity in the class”.

The onus to not just give quality education but also to keep the children in school, then, largely lies on the teachers, and on their training and growth. “Teaching is a prophetic profession. People should be tested and chosen to become teachers only if they can be as sincere to the students as they are to their own children,” says Mal.

As Husain sums it up, education in its best sense should allow children to have role models in every domain of excellence.

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Depression – Career, family life, everything suffers

In a society where mental illness is stigmatised and its treatment is expensive, the harm of not getting treatment for depression can be disastrous

Career, family life, everything suffers

Eventually, you may wander the labyrinth and keep popping pills that sometimes help you sleep and at other times are mood-lifters. By so doing, you become one of the many Pakistanis who pop millions of these “happy” pills to fight a very real and very debilitating illness.

“The total antidepressant market in Pakistan is approximately Rs4 billion, as per annual sales, and is growing at the pace of 16 per cent; the market for tranquilisers or anxiolytics is also around PKR3 billion, with a double digit growth of 10 per cent,” says Nouman Lateef, Director, BU-GI Care, Merck.

“Depression is underdiagnosed and undertreated. People suffer needlessly. On the other hand, some people are misdiagnosed and receive medications they shouldn’t,” says Dr Nadir Ali Syed, a neurologist at Karachi’s South City Hospital.

However, disagreeing with studies that indicate that between 30-50 per cent of Pakistanis are depressed, he feels the actual figure for patients in need of medical attention is closer to 10 per cent. “That is still very common. Major Depressive Disorder is remarkably common in Pakistan, as it is in the rest of the world.”

The disease chooses its prey without disparity on the basis of economics, and strikes people across the board, whether they are rich or poor. In the opinion of Dr Uroosa Talib, Psychiatrist and Head of Medical Services, Karwan-e-Hayat Hospital, the prevalence rate of mental illness is high. “1 in every 4 persons in Karachi suffers. The reasons are many. Lack of basic amenities like water and electricity, poverty, street crime, terrorism and violence,” she says, talking about the social reasons for depression.

Read also: An overdose of self-medication

Shedding light on the medical causes of depression, Dr Syed says that depression can be the primary illness or frequently also be triggered by other medical problems, such as thyroid disorders or neurological diseases. It can be related to pregnancy or menstruation or even to medications or vitamin deficiency. “All depression is neurological in the sense that it is related to brain abnormality. It is associated with changes in chemicals in the brain, such as serotonin norepinephrine or dopamine. Many neurological disorders can be a reason for depression like stroke, Parkinson’s disease, migraine headaches, dementia, or pain from any cause.”

Treatment of depression can be an expensive prospect, and mental healthcare providers are not readily accessible. “In Karachi, Jinnah Hospital and Civil Hospital have psychiatric facilities. Other public hospitals just have OPDs,” says Dr Talib.

Treatment of depression can be an expensive prospect, and mental healthcare providers are not readily accessible for the underprivileged. “In Karachi, Jinnah Hospital and Civil Hospital have psychiatric facilities. Other public hospitals just have OPDs that prescribe anti-psychotics and that is not enough,” says Dr Talib, adding that treatment requires both talk therapy and medication.

Dr. Syed says the most common medicines used in Pakistan are Escitalopram, Citalopram, Fluoxetine, Paroxetine and Sertraline, sold under various brand names.

Medication to treat depression is a potential lifesaver, but must be prescribed by doctors qualified to prescribe them. “Most of the medicines sold over the counter are anxiolytics like Lexotanil, Xanax and Valium. These are more addictive and people use them as hypnotics,” says Lateef, talking about the popular benzodiazepines class of medicines that are used and abused readily. “Anti-depressants’ effect is not immediate; their impact takes time to show. However, a new class of anti-depressants has a quicker onset of effect.”

“A study shows that 60-65 per cent of the patients visiting primary care physicians are patients of depression and anxiety,” says Dr Talib. However, most of those coming to the general physician don’t even know what they are suffering from. “They complain of chronic symptoms like backache or fatigue, which are actually physical manifestations of depression. We go to the doctor and take medicines for physical symptoms, but not for mental illnesses.”

Females being at least twice as susceptible to depression in Pakistan, Dr Talib feels that this is because females have to carry heavier emotional loads, particularly in lower income groups. “These women are already struggling so much to survive that their stress tolerance is very low. Their families don’t understand what is happening to them. They have no one to talk to. They have no acknowledgment of emotional issues and no means to relax themselves. Multiple childbirths and hormonal fluctuation add to the problem.”

Lateef says that while prescribing an anti-depressant, the age and condition of the patient should be taken into account.

“People should never self-medicate. There are specific medications for specific patient types,” says Dr Syed.

“But instead of psychiatrists who should actually be prescribing them, they are mostly prescribed by cardiologists and general physicians,” says Dr Talib.

She also advises that one should not discontinue these medicines suddenly. “They should be tapered off, but only after the doctor weighs the pros and cons. Relapse of depression is very common so one might need a maintenance dose of the medicine for life.”

The treatment for depression is as complex as the disorder itself. Medication must be coupled with counselling and rehabilitation. Afia Wajahat, therapist, works with Mental and Social Health Advocacy and Literacy (MASHAL), in underprivileged areas of Karachi. It is an initiative linked with the Aman Foundation. Her team goes door-to-door to screen people for mental illnesses, provide them therapy, and help them get a second lease of life through rehabilitation and provision of livelihood to bring them out of the clutches of poverty.

In Wajahat’s experience, rehabilitation is most important in order to avoid a relapse. “For that we have to bring them back towards leading productive lives. We enroll them in vocational trainings, socialise with them as they have to come out of isolation, and counsel them to give them confidence.”

The harm of not getting treatment for depression can be disastrous. “We need to make people understand the consequences of depression. Your career, your family life, everything suffers,” says Dr Talib. It is time Pakistanis understand this.

The battle to save the Bagh

The story of Bagh Ibn-e-Qasim’s slow deterioration — the price Karachi’s green spaces have paid for development

The battle to save the Bagh

The reactions against the idea of the Bagh being taken over were mostly emotional. Yet, few noticed that the park had been dying since the last few years, bit by bit, with every fading tree and plant, and especially with the closing of the main entrance. One year ago, even the battery and UPS of the big clock in the Bagh were stolen. The number of those frequenting it dwindled over the years. Whether Bahria Town takes it over or not, the fact is that Karachiites are paying a price for the ‘development’ in the megacity with the shrinkage of public places.

Worse still is the Karachiites’ aching nostalgia that comes with it. Where once there was Playland, Aquarium, and the main entrance of the Bagh, is now a void.

A resident of this area says that he has seen the so-called development happen overnight as the entire area was well and truly encroached upon. “In the evenings, the Bagh used to be packed with youth, children and families. This park was the most well-lit part of the entire Clifton area. It used to be open almost till midnight,” he says, echoing the memories of many city-dwellers. “The weather would be cool in the evenings close to Karachi’s famous seafront. Standing in the bandstand and looking out at the sea was a fantastic experience,” he reminisces about the evenings spent at the park with his family.

Trees would provide shade to people and encourage them to flock to it even during daytime – the footfall was in the thousands. There was a mosque where visitors could go to pray, and there were foodstalls outside.

“The park had nice horticulture. Plants were shaped as animals. All of that faded. The grass used to be green; now it’s just barren sand over there,” he regrets.

Many public events, such as the centennial celebrations for the renowned poet Faiz Ahmad Faiz in 2011, were held there as the huge park grounds could accommodate large numbers of visitors.

Few noticed that the park had been dying since the last few years, bit by bit, with every fading tree and plant, and especially with the closing of the main entrance. One year ago, even the battery and UPS of the big clock in the Bagh were stolen.

The park has seen better days.

For columnist Nadeem Farooq Paracha, however, this sudden wave of emotions seems too little too late. “Many folks don’t say or do anything about a problem, but suddenly spring to action if that problem is being solved through means they do not agree with.”

He thinks the Bagh has been in doldrums for quite a while now. “Yet, none of the politicos or members of the civil society making such a hue and cry of it being handed over to Malik Riaz did anything whatsoever to better the plight of this once spectacular park”.

Qasim Bagh in the glory days.

Qasim Bagh in the glory days.

The deterioration of the park did not happen overnight. For years, its main entrance was adjacent to where the Bahria Icon Tower looms today. When the construction of the skyscraper began, the main gate of the park became the entrance point for the site office. As a result, the gate was closed down. With the construction of an underpass, the Kothari Parade access points changed as well.

The resident, disgruntled at how the limited accessibility restricted visitors, holds the alteration responsible for changing the traffic flow: “Public transport could no longer collect passengers because the Abdullah Shah Ghazi Mazaar entrance was also changed to the side.”

Karachi - Bagh-e-Ibne Qasim - 055

“Now a majority of the buses pass by the mazaar’s new entrance, which is in the side lanes,” he explains. “Once this happened, the government failed to maintain the park.”

The other entrance to the park is the one which faces the sea. There is very limited public transport on that route and since a vast majority of visitors were ordinary people travelling in buses, the numbers began to drop. Having to walk long distances, and parking problems for those using personal vehicles made it more discouraging.

One of Karachi’s most diehard chroniclers, Ghazi Salahuddin, says he had been observing the deterioration of the Bagh, and feels this was neglect with an agenda. “It’s not just about this Park; it’s about Karachi as a whole. This city’s civic life has been plundered. From public spaces to transport to garbage collection – the government is not performing its civic responsibilities,” says Ghazi, dismayed at the bad condition of places such as Qasim Bagh. “These shared spaces are so precious. Karachi’s cultural life has also been effected by neglecting them,” he says, and adds that whenever he visits Lahore, he feels Karachi is no longer the city of lights, but it is Lahore now.

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Whether this disrepair is because the inflow of visitors decreased or was it done by design is debatable, the resident thinks. “It would be silly to assume that residents of the high-rise would want a view of a park in shambles. When the entrance of the mazaar and park was changed, it warded away ordinary people. Who would want ordinary people around such prime, expensive real estate property?” he asks.

Journalist and tv show host, Zarrar Khuhro feels that Karachi does have precedents of public-private partnerships, and that is not always a bad thing. “An example is how Asim Jofa has used the Do Talwar roundabout for his advertisements, but then he has also maintained that area well and in fact improved it.”

His worry, however, is deeper than just one park. “Public spaces are shrinking in Karachi, especially for the lower and lower-middle class. A city is held together by public spaces.”

Khuhro also says that in Karachi, the rise of gated communities and the disappearance of shared spaces is resulting in social silos. “Playland, Aquarium – that’s all gone. Development should be done, but must be done responsibly, keeping the character of the city in mind.”

He also comments that the stake of Bahria properties in Karachi raises questions, “considering that regulations have been circumvented and even broken to facilitate these properties”.

If Karachiites are getting another chance at utilising this park for the benefit of citizens, then as Paracha suggests, more should be done to maintain Bagh Ibn-e-Qasim while it’s still there.

This is an updated version of the article that was published in The News on Sunday on April 09, 2017

Immunization – Right of children

Unimmunised children continue to pose a challenge to health authorities

Right of children
Awareness needs to be raised among parents.

Like millions of mothers of Pakistan, it did not seem worth it to her to get her children vaccinated as that would make them temporarily sick. “Bacha beemaar ho jata hai; bukhaar charh jaata hai teekay se (The child becomes sick and develops a fever after vaccination).”

However, illiteracy is not the only factor that holds back Pakistani mothers from getting their children vaccinated. A lack of awareness about the importance of Routine Immunization (RI), and an absence of sensitisation regarding facts that dispel myths, seem to be present across the board. Across the road, there are children in upper tier homes in Karachi that have also not been vaccinated, or have not received follow-ups.

Marvi Junaid, a teacher, is an urban mother who, in her own words, is “confused” about vaccination. “I was stopped from getting my sons vaccinated after the initial shots; my husband studied it in detail and was convinced that this could be detrimental to the child’s immunity, and felt it was more of a money-making scheme,” says Marvi. She feels that religious notions also have a role in discouraging people against vaccination. “Even in the upper strata, people believe vaccinations adversely affect children. Once you sense that there is a possible harm of a medicine, you can’t help but stay away from it. I think we need more awareness so that we can make informed decisions.”

Mothers remain the central piece of this jigsaw puzzle, and convincing them of the benefits of immunisation seems to be one of the key factors. Dr Asad Ali, Associate Professor of Paediatric Infectious Diseases at the Aga Khan University, with a research focus on vaccine-preventable infectious diseases and malnutrition, says that the role of mothers in this regard is critically important. “Research shows that many a times, mothers are discouraged by the common side effect of short-time fever and local injection site discomfort after the vaccination of their baby. So they do not complete the series and also don’t get other children vaccinated. What they do not realise is that these transient side effects are a small price to pay for the critical protection their baby will get by receiving the full course of vaccines,” he says.

Dr. Ali adds that awareness needs to be raised among parents that vaccination is a right of their children. “Even if vaccinators are not coming to your house, parents must take their children to local governmental vaccination centers.”

Immunisation of children under the age of one-year against major vaccine-preventable diseases (tuberculosis, diphtheria, pertussis, tetanus, hepatitis B, Haemophilus influenza type B [Hib], poliomyelitis, and measles) is one of the most cost-effective means of reducing infant and child morbidity and mortality. The government of Pakistan initiated the Expanded Program on Immunization (EPI) three decades ago to save Pakistani children from these diseases. All vaccines in the RI schedule are provided free of cost in all public health facilities in Pakistan. Even then, the children are not given the coverage they deserve.

The Pakistan Demographic and Health Survey 2012-2013 sheds important light on some facts regarding the state of RI in Pakistan. Gender preference is seen even in RI. Boys are more likely than girls to be fully immunised — 56 per cent versus 52 per cent. Children’s birth order varies inversely with immunisation coverage — as birth order increases, immunisation coverage generally decreases. 64 per cent of first-born children have been fully immunised, in contrast to 39 per cent of children of birth order six and above.

“When I first became a mom, vaccination was a given; we diligently set reminders for our daughter’s appointments. It seemed as natural as buying diapers. Within the next three years, and with the transition from new mom to an experienced one, I began to read into everything from how the body has a natural mechanism for fighting fever to how to send more probiotics naturally to the gut. With the virals on the rise and doctors liberally prescribing steroids even for a blocked nose, I began to feel that there was too much of unnatural intervention,” says Nida Raza, a working mother of two and a resident of Karachi, who became lax regarding vaccination of her second child. “The anti-vaccination rhetoric on the internet and around didn’t help much and somehow my trust flew out of the window. I have been reading it and discussing it and yet I’m not convinced anymore; I’m confused about its benefits and authenticity.”

Urban-rural differences in immunisation coverage are clear. 66 per cent of children residing in urban areas are more likely to be fully immunised, compared to 48 per cent in rural areas, according to PDHS. There are wide differences in coverage by region. Islamabad has the highest percentage of children who are fully immunised (74 per cent), followed by Punjab (66 per cent) and Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa (53 per cent); immunisation coverage remains lowest in Sindh (29 per cent) and Balochistan (16 per cent), as per PDHS findings.

However, the latter two provinces are seeing a thrust in the efforts for reaching out to children who are not vaccinated. For Sindh, fresh research shows that the numbers of covered children are rising, thanks to efforts of EPI Sindh, yet much remains to be done, and unimmunised children continue to pose a challenge.

EPI Sindh’s Project Director Dr Agha Ashfaq, recently giving an overview of the programme to members of the media, said coverage of RI in Sindh has increased to 45 per cent. In view of the loss of lives of children because of Diarrhea, the Rotavirus vaccine is also being included in the RI in Sindh. Success in Sindh is being seen, for example no stock outs of vaccines were reported in 2015-16 in the province.

Vaccine Logistics Management Information System (VLMIS) is being set up in all districts of Sindh. Polio Eradication Initiative (PEI) and Sindh EPI are working in collaboration. Increased mapping of urban slums is being done. There is also newfound emphasis on the monitoring, evaluation and accountability framework. However, more emphasis is needed in raising awareness among parents, especially mothers, because eventually the decision to get one’s child vaccinated or not remains pre-dominantly with them.

Measles remains one of the key indicators of immunisation programmes in any country. Some 20 million infants missed their measles shots world over in 2015, and an estimated 134,000 children died from the disease. Half of the unvaccinated infants and 75 per cent of the measles deaths are in six countries; Pakistan is one of them. “The frequent outbreaks of measles in our country are a clear reminder that should convince parents about the need for vaccines for their children,” says Dr. Ali.

“Mothers in Tharparkar are very cooperative when it comes to their children’s health but they need to be convinced. We have not reached out enough to create awareness among the mothers,” says Dr. Aziz Kunbhar, former District Health Officer in Tharparkar.

Dr. Ali adds that awareness needs to be raised among parents that vaccination is a right of their children. “Even if vaccinators are not coming to your house, parents must take their children to local governmental vaccination centers.”

Spaces and moments of leisure

http://tns.thenews.com.pk/spaces-moments-leisure/#.WPMZEsZRU1k

 

The project used a rickshaw powered projector to show cell phone videos in diverse neighbourhoods where the videos were made. Basheer was the community coordinator for the screenings at Seaview. For Basheer who makes a living by photographing tourists along the Seaview beach, being part of a video project was something that left not just fond memories but a sense of ownership about his city. These outdoor screenings were free of cost and were held in various parts of Karachi, thereby creating an archive of cell phone videos about everyday life of Karachiites.

“This project was not a political reportage. We were not trying to be native informants. This project gathered Karachiite’s spaces and moments of leisure in the city,” says Yaminay Nasir Chaudhri, the key person behind MKMC. Mera Karachi Mobile Cinema was a way of engaging with different publics, explains Chaudhri. “We wanted to change the relationship of people to media. Normally the people we met and worked with were consumers of the media, but did not get to produce it themselves. In MKMC, they had a chance to make media and if they wanted to, to represent themselves.” The approach was participatory.

The MKMC team would teach basic video making and editing techniques using cell phones. Members of the community became collaborators and a part of the creative process. They could, for example, express their choice for music or particular scenes they liked in the videos they made, and want the MKMC team to fine tune that. “We would work on it together. It was a very important aspect of the project to create a sense of ownership and agency over the images we put out in the world,” says Chaudhri.

Karachi is a melting pot of different ethnicities, languages and cultures. This series of videos, though limited in number, were aimed at being snapshots into life of Karachiites from all walks of life. They were produced in response to the question “Home: What did you do last Sunday?” A Mobile Cinema Rickshaw carried around the projector that projected these videos on walls of houses, railway bogies and buildings, added another dimension to it that is typical to life in Karachi.

Karachi is a melting pot of different ethnicities, languages and cultures. This series of videos, though limited in number, were aimed at being snapshots into life of Karachiites from all walks of life. They were produced in response to the question “Home: What did you do last Sunday?”

The project celebrated the life and times of Karachiites, and created a new use of public spaces. This was a use of art that was not a luxury for the elite – it was by the people and for the people.

The MKMC team was headed by Yaminay Chaudhri. Other team members included Cyrus Viccaji, Sadia Khatri, Mohammad Saddique Khan, Khadija Abdul Lateef, Krishna Raju and Farhad Mirza.

Areas that were covered included Ibrahim Haidery, Lyari, Cantt Station and Seaview. Karachi’s migrant communities were also focused upon. Some of them have been living in the city since decades but still do not have legal status here. The videos, simple at a glance, were conceptually layered, tapping into complex themes like identity and ownership. Both regular and irregular settlements were tapped into.

Vernacular aesthetics and tools were used in this project. The rhythm of the city was important. These videos were not made for an international audience, which helped deliver a more fluid and organic narrative. “Often when films or documentaries are made for a global audience, producers end up orientalising, objectifying and exoticising Pakistan, resorting to stereotypes about terrorism, and over simplification of people based on ethnicities,” explains Chaudhri.

“MKMC is an incredibly diverse and inclusive project. It’s so beautiful how it’s rooted deeply in Karachi and its inhabitants, building a poignant and personal archive of all the vulnerable and aspirational relationships we have with the city, its public spaces and communities,” says Abeera Kamran, a graphic designer and web developer who worked on the website of Tentative Collective. She adds that it’s so rare to find artists that are committed to such collaborative intersectional work.

The screening of videos in MKMC created an alternative narrative in public spaces. The screenings fostered new kinds of conviviality in these neighbourhoods and leftover spaces of the city. In Lyari, in one screening, some 300 people, mostly women and children, came together on an empty parking lot and street in the middle of Baghdadi. “Our gatherings never used security apparatus and we never had any problems. The feeling of community and desire to be in a public space together doing something fun was a kind of organiser in itself,” says Chaudhri.

MKMC made an effort to hire a few people from each neighbourhood they engaged with as community leaders. They offered salaries to the ones who wanted salaries and support in other ways to those who were insulted by the offer of money. The project took one year to plan and ran for three years. It involved applying for grants, crowd sourcing, personal savings and getting funding from friends.

The second phase of the project, still underway, involves the showing of previously unshared parts of MKMC, a documentation of the process, and analysing what the team learnt from it. According to Chaudhri, the MKMC team wants to look at what gets deleted, what is deemed screen worthy and what is not. As artists working with new collaborators, they also want to decipher what it was that they saw in these engagements with unlikely friends.

As often happens, lack of funds eventually became a reason why the project had to be discontinued. “We got offers to turn this project into a brand, and were offered funding from dubious sources, but we turned it down. It was important to us that the agendas of funding bodies were not reflected in the outcomes of our project. That would defeat the purpose of making a project like this with its open-ended outcomes and flexibility of programming,” says Chaudhri, adding that by the end of the project, the structure of the videos had changed dramatically based on the groups they met and their desire to make media a certain way. “The project went in all of those directions happily. With big funding, branding, and foreign agendas, none of that would have been possible.”

MKMC was a project of the “Tentative Collective” — a collective of people who share resources to create critical works of art in public places. The Tentative Collective is currently working on a project exploring some of the outcomes of modernity and development, working with literal and metaphorical notions of waste and wasted lives.